


i couldn't love you any better

by thekardemomme



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Deaf!Isak, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Internal Conflict, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 20:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10704522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekardemomme/pseuds/thekardemomme
Summary: Isak and Even always say “I love you” out loud, although Isak can't actually hear it.





	i couldn't love you any better

**Author's Note:**

> Any false or incorrect information is all on me, I'm not deaf but I did loads of research. Any mistakes are mine, pls be kind and let me know if something's wrong :)
> 
> Title from Just The Way You Are by Billy Joel
> 
> ATTENTION: ALL ITALICS ARE SIGN LANGUAGE. Read it like dialogue, but know that they're signing :)

Isak's been deaf most of his life. He got sick with some weird thing when he was five and a half. He started losing his hearing when he was six years old, and went completely deaf at eleven. He'd taught himself to read lips, a secret talent he used to talk to people at school. The people who used to call him a freak who now, generally, treated him like normal. Like he was one of them. Which he is one of them, he knows that — but the kids back then didn't. They saw his hearing aids (which didn't do very much anyway once his hearing got worse) and ran, so he'd stopped wearing them. They saw his hands moving and they laugh and mock him, so he'd put them down. He spoke and they'd laugh at the probably hilarity of his voice, so he'd zipped his lips. 

Magnus's mom is deaf. Mahdi's cousin lost her hearing. Jonas's sister was born deaf. Those were Isak's friends and they all spoke to him like he was normal — save for the fact that they all speak with their hands. Signing. 

Even was the thing that made him happiest, though. He'd met Even in late second year and Even, upon learning of Isak's predicament, had learned sign language just to ask him on a date. Isak had gotten so emotional that he'd cried, right there in the middle of the school, and Even had just smiled and signed that he would pick Isak up at seven. 

Isak rolls over in bed, smiles at the sight of the sleeping form next to him. This bed was something that was all their own, a place where they both took solitude from the world together. Things got too much for Isak sometimes, sights too bright and people too hard to understand. Things got hard for Even, too. Noises got too loud. Voices piled onto other voices. Sometimes, Isak wishes that he and Even could trade bodies for just a little while. 

Even blinks his eyes open and reaches out to smooth his thumb over Isak's cheek, making Isak hum. “Good morning,” Even says slowly, and Isak stares intently at his lips to read what they're saying. “Did you sleep well?”

 _Yes._ Isak moves his hands to rest gently on Even's bare chest, feeling his heart beat between his fingers. “I dreamt of you,” he says as best he can, not sure if he's too loud or too quiet or if he's enunciating enough. But Even smiles and laces their hands together, holding them in the space between their bodies. 

“Don't need to dream of me when I'm right here in front of you,” Even says, and Isak leans in to press their lips together. This, at least, is one thing Isak can do just as well as everybody else.

*

“I don't want to get married,” Isak says one day over breakfast. Even looks up, raising his eyebrows. Isak blushes, realizing he'd spoken too quietly. He tries to make his voice louder. “I don't want to get married,” he repeats.

Confusion crosses Even's face. _Why not?_

Isak blushes harder and stares down at his plate of pancakes. He was a hopeless romantic, deep down. He loved the idea of standing at an altar with Even, pledging their love and riding off in the sunset together. He loves the idea of a grand wedding cake frosted with buttercream, of champagne flutes and toasts and roses and boutonnieres. He's loved every second of every wedding he's attended, and imagined himself in that position on countless sleepless nights and early mornings. 

But there was one thing that he could never get past. His first dance with Even would be to a song he'd never heard before. He would watch people cry and tear up, and sure he'd be crying too, but he wouldn't hear. He wouldn't hear the sappy song Even chose, probably one off of Romeo and Juliet or Pretty Woman. He wouldn't be able to hear the music, the tempo, the lyrics. He wouldn't be able to tell if the song was instrumental or acoustic. He wouldn't be able to hear the goddamn song that they'd first dance to as husbands. 

And maybe that's a lame reason. In fact, he knows it is. Weddings are about pledging your love to your partner. About being joined in holy matrimony, forsaking all others, until death do you part. It's about love and forever. But god, Isak just wanted to be able to hear the goddamn music. 

“I, uh,” he begins, but then Even signs that Isak is speaking too quietly, so Isak gives up. Tears drip down his cheeks quicker than he can stop them, and he knows he's sobbing hard but he doesn't know how loud. Even jumps up and suddenly Isak is surrounded by warmth and the smell of Even's cologne, Even's arms tight around him. Isak wishes he could hear the sweet nothings that Even surely would be whispering if Isak could hear in the first place. 

It takes a few minutes for Isak to calm down enough to sign, _I won't be able to hear the music when we dance._ And Even's eyes go soft, warm and fond and so sorry that Isak can't stand to look him in the eye. But Even is tilting his chin up, looking him in the eye because that's the only way they can speak, only if Isak is looking at him. 

“I'll sign all the lyrics to you,” Even promises, and Isak crumples but doesn't look away because Even is still talking. “I'll sign everything. I'll put up a board on the wall that shows you all the music notes.”

 _I've never heard your favorite songs_ , Isak signs, and tears fall down like rain. _I want to know your favorite songs and I can't marry you until I do._

And it's not logic. Even and Isak are only 20 and 17, respectively. Marriage isn't in the near future but the possibility of it being in the distant future makes him nervous. He can't marry Even, or anyone, until the day he can hear the music. Until he can hear their voice, can hear the proposal. 

And even if he was to get married sooner rather than later, he should hardly base it off of whether or not he can hear the music. It's ridiculous to turn your nose up to marriage just because you won't hear the wedding music. But it's a big thing to Isak, big enough for him to decide he'd rather just never get married. 

_That's okay_ , Even signs back. _We don't have to get married_. And it helps Isak, if only minutely.

*

When Even's angry, it's the worst thing in the world. They've gotten in more little tiffs since they've moved in together — over lame things like leaving the laundry on the line too long or not doing the dishes. Every little fight makes Isak upset, but it's the big ones that suck the most. The ones where Even doesn't look at him, where Even yells (though Isak only knows he's yelling because of his facial expressions), when he looks at Isak with anything other than pure love. It hurts him, chips away at his heart more than he likes.

Today, Even's mad because Isak hadn't done the laundry at all. And it's a relatively small thing, but it's piled up on the messes that Isak makes and the stress Even's under at work and the overall burden that taking care of Isak is. Even always insists that Isak being deaf doesn't change anything but Isak knows it does. He knows that it puts Even under more stress than he needs, that it's just one more thing on top of the pile of shit Even has in his life. It sucks for Isak to think of himself that way but sometimes the truth hurts. 

“You know,” Even yells, his face turning red as Isak struggles to read his lips, “I'm really fucking tired of pulling your weight! I have so much to do with school and work and everything else, and it'd be really fucking awesome if you would get off your ass and help out around our flat sometimes!”

Isak doesn't point out that he's the one that does the food shopping. He doesn't point out that if Isak hadn't bought laundry detergent just the other day, he wouldn't be able to do the laundry at all. He doesn't point out that Even hasn't helped him clean up after one of Even's russ parties since Even started having russ party pregames at the flat. He just stares at Even's lips and reads all of the words he says, takes them in, soaks them up like a sponge. 

“Are you even listening?!” Even spits, and it's small things like that, those types of comments that people don't think twice about, that makes being deaf even more of a hellish experience. Insensitive things that fall from people's lips before they catch it, and the terror that widens their eyes as they realize what they'd said — and who'd they said it to. Even doesn't react in a way that's noticeable, other than a barely muttered apology before he continues. 

Even starts yelling so much and so intensely that he speaks faster. His words become lost in translation, and Isak tries his best to read Even's lips but they're too fast. He tries to say something, stands up and signs to say that he doesn't understand. Even's face is bright red as Eve raises his hands to sign, _I need to be alone._

Isak frowns. _Please don't. We can talk this out. I'm sorry about the laundry._

 _We can't talk anything out._ Even is frowning, too, and Isak's heart hurts. He'd said that on purpose. He'd said that to hurt Isak. _I'm sorry. That wasn't cool._

 _It's okay_. Isak sits back down, and Even drops down next to him. _Just talk to me._

 _I'm just stressed. Things with school and work are becoming a bit much. I just want to come home and relax sometimes. And I can't do that when..._ Even stops signing, and Isak can read the guilt all over his face. Another talent of his, being able to read people's faces just as much as their lips. 

_When I'm here._

_I didn't say that._

Isak sighs. _You didn't have to. It's okay. I know being with me can be hard sometimes._

_It's not hard being with you. It just gets a bit much to be with someone who's deaf sometimes._

He knows that Even means it in the kindest way. But he hates that he's a burden on Even. He frowns and tries to bite back the tears. _I'm sorry_ , he signs, and stands up. _I'll sleep on the couch tonight so you can be alone._

“You don't have to do that,” Even says, slow enough for Isak to read. 

_It's fine. I'm going to go for a walk._

Even goes for a kiss, but Isak turns his head so it hits his cheek. He doesn't hear how hard the front door closes behind him, but he figures it's harder than it should've been.

*

One time, Even got tickets to a concert. He'd raved to Isak about it, about how excited he was to go. He'd asked his friend from school to go with him, and asked Isak to take their picture for Instagram before they departed to go see the concert.

Isak had invited Jonas over to play FIFA, and they played for three hours before Isak paused the game and acknowledged the ball of lead and hurt that had settled in his stomach. _Why didn't Even ask me to go with him?_ He signs, and Jonas raises his eyebrows. 

_Because you can't hear, so going to a concert is kind of pointless._ Isak rolls his eyes, and holds up his middle finger. Jonas laughs and shrugs. _It's true._

_Maybe. But he didn't even ask me._

“Can you hear what I'm saying right now?” Jonas asks, and Isak shakes his head. That answer should've been obvious. “Exactly. You can't hear the music at the concert. Even probably thought you'd be offended if he asked, like he wasn't considerate of you being deaf. And if he had asked you, and you went, would you really have a good time? Probably not.”

And that's true, too. Isak knows it is, he knows the logic. He knows why Even didn't ask him to go to the concert. _Sometimes I wish I could do things like go to concerts with my boyfriend_. 

Jonas gives him a sympathetic smile and rubs small circles on Isak's back. Even loves you for who you are. _He fell in love with you while you're deaf and he will continue to love you. Silly things like concerts and stuff don't matter._

 _Not to you_. Isak looks down and Jonas pulls him into a hug. Isak hates feeling helpless or like he isn't normal. He's not disabled and hates being labeled as such. He doesn't need special help, not all the time. There's nothing wrong with his brain or his physical capabilities, besides the whole hearing thing. It shouldn't be such a big deal to Isak and yet it is. 

When Even comes home that night, it's like he knows how Isak is feeling. He slides into bed with Isak and wraps his arms around his waist, pressing light kisses to Isak's hair. “I'm sorry I can't go to concerts with you,” Isak says, trying his best to enunciate because he wants Even to realize that Isak is just as capable of it as hearing people. 

Even smooths his hair back, and shakes his head slowly. _You deserve better dates than hot, crowded concerts._

“Thank you,” Isak says, and Even presses their lips together. Isak doesn't necessarily feel better about the whole thing, but this is something he's lived with and will always have to live with, and he has to hold onto the things that make him happy if he's ever going to feel like he's normal.

*

Even's parents know sign language.

It's a shock to Isak because the last time he came, they didn't. They knew the basics but nothing more, and right now Even's mom is telling him a story in full sign language. Even's arm is around his shoulders, holding him as Isak signs back. She understands, can respond. It's the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for Isak. 

When they retire to Even's old bedroom for the evening, Isak looks at Even with love filled eyes. _When did your parents learn sign language?_

Even shrugs, _They've been learning it since you and I became serious. They kept it a secret from you until they were fluent. Surprise._

Isak's eyes fill with tears and he smiles so wide it hurts. _No one's ever done that for me before_. Then he thinks, and backtracks. _Except for you._

Even smiles, wraps his arms around Isak and hugs him so tightly that Isak can hardly breathe. Even pulls back to say, “I love you.”

“I love you,” Isak says back.

*

They're sitting at lunch one day; Magnus, Jonas, Mahdi, Isak, and Even. They're all using sign language and speaking at the same time. Speaking because they all can hear, signing so Isak can understand.

Isak thinks he's the luckiest boy in the world sometimes. Most people forget that Isak can't hear, that he can't keep up with group conversations. But they're all signing like it's second nature to do so, like they didn't all learn sign language for somebody else. All four of them could speak if they wanted, could hear and understand. But they thought about Isak without even really thinking about it. 

Isak isn't disabled. He just speaks another language, is all. A language that his friends know, that his boyfriend learned so they could communicate. And on days like today, where Isak can make a sarcastic comment in sign language and receive a flurry of signing in return, he feels like he really isn't all that different. He's just one of the boys, one of the countless students at Nissen. 

_Who's up for kebab after school?_ Magnus signs. 

Jonas nods, _Always man._

Mahdi agrees, _Who doesn't want kebab?_

It's Even that smiles and shakes his head, _Isak and I have plans after school._

Isak furrows his eyebrows, _We do?_

 _We do,_ Even confirms. _We have plans._

 _And those plans are?_ , Mahdi asks. 

_Sex,_ Even signs back, and Isak's eyes widen. 

All of the boys are laughing, and Isak is grabbing Even's hands and lowering them. He realizes halfway through the action that Even can speak, that preventing the use of his hands won't actually stop him from saying anything. He looks up at Even to read his lips, but Even isn't talking. He's smiling down at Isak and it's so big and beautiful that Isak can't help himself. He leans up to press their lips together, and thanks god that he doesn't hear his friends' reactions to it. 

When they pull away, Even signs, _See? He can't keep his hands off of me._ Isak raises his middle finger and everyone laughs again, and Even pulls Isak into his side. _I love you._

Isak grins, “I know.”

*

For Isak's 18th birthday, they go to the doctor. There's a cochlear implant available and Isak's parents had been working on getting him qualified for the surgery. He was lucky, the doctor had said, that he was post-lingually deaf. They'd said it could take a long time for him to be able to hear voices and understand them, but that since Isak had lost his hearing from the age of six until he went completely deaf at eleven, he would have it a lot easier. He'd pick up environmental sounds and voices, but not sentences. Not for a long time.

They did it anyway. 

And after the surgery, he'd started therapy. He never used the sound processor around Even or whenever he wasn't in therapy, because the sensation of hearing was so much. They worked for months on his hearing, and three months after the surgery he understood his first sentence and had his first real conversation. 

One day, after rehab, he'd sat down with Even for dinner and had turned on his sound processor. He nearly cried as he heard the sound of Even cooking, and humming. Even never spoke, which was both a blessing and a curse because he'd never heard Even's voice and he wanted the first time to be when Even was speaking directly to him. 

Even puts a bowl of pasta down in front of Isak and then sits on the opposite side of the table. _Thank you,_ Isak signs. 

_You're welcome,_ Even signs back. 

They eat in silence for a while. Isak can tell that, because he can actually hear. He doesn't hear everything, but he can make out the sound of his fork on the bowl. He speaks to Even in signs and Even just signs back, asks him through his hands how his rehab was going. 

“I love you,” Isak says when he can't stand it anymore. His voice is an appropriate volume, he can tell. He can hear it. 

Even smiles up at him, “I love you.” And Isak bursts into tears right then and there. Even, so accustomed to speaking a bit slower so Isak could read his lips, had spoken slow enough for Isak to understand the words. Even's voice was deep and a little rough around the edges and the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. His voice sounded like all the songs Isak's ever longed to hear, sounded like all the concerts and parties and conversations he'd been left out of. 

Even rushes over to hug Isak, asking him through sign language what was wrong. Isak sobs, burying his face into Even's chest as he says, “I can hear you.”

The older boy pulls back abruptly, cupping Isak's cheeks. “You can hear me?” He asks. It's hard to make out but being able to read lips helps, so Isak figures out what he says and nods slowly. “Fuck. Fuck, I love you. I love you so much, baby, I love you. Isak, do you hear me? I love you.”

The only sentence Isak can pick out is the I love you's, but he can hear the sound of Even's voice and it makes his heart burst. For the first time in a long time he can hear, and it's like reaching Nirvana. Like reaching Judgement Day and going straight to heaven. Isak knows he won't use his sound processor all the time. That he'll still use signing, that he'll still struggle to hear. But being able to hear Even tell him he loves him...it makes all of this worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback appreciated!!! xoxo


End file.
